


my soul loves yours

by like_theletter



Series: MCYT [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Temporary Character Death, Trauma, a seriously absurd amount of hugs, immediately post-festival, talk of sacrificing oneself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27953630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/like_theletter/pseuds/like_theletter
Summary: Tubbo runs faster. Nonexistent fireworks burn away his flesh with every step.Finally, he sees Tommy.Even from the significant distance, the relief on his face is palpable. His entire posture changes, too, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. Tubbo runs faster.The instant they’re close enough, they’re colliding.Tubbo barely minds that his chest is burning with how tight Tommy is hugging him, that Tommy’s hands are scrabbling on his back for purchase like he’s inches from falling off a ledge, that his face is shoved into Tommy’s neck. He feels something in his heart settle. He’s in the arms of his best friend; that’s enough.(Tubbo wakes up from a living nightmare and needs to stop Tommy from doing something stupid.)
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, platonic - Relationship
Series: MCYT [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077845
Comments: 22
Kudos: 337





	my soul loves yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [qar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qar/gifts).



> Title from Immortal's Spring by Molly Ringle.
> 
> i wrote this instead of doing schoolwork. it's almost 3am. i still have not done my schoolwork. those are the vibes, folks. 
> 
> just wanted to give a gift to Big Man Qar because she is awesome and deserves it :D
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Tubbo has never run so fast in all his life.

The moment he draws the first breath into his lungs, registers that he’s  _ awake  _ and  _ alive _ , he’s running. He doesn’t give himself time to consider that that was the first time he’d died, doesn’t even spare a second to check himself over, to acknowledge the tightness of the skin on his face, the primal fear still burning in his chest. Tubbo is running as soon as possible, with only one thought on his mind—  _ Tommy.  _

The running gives him time to think. He remembers, against his will, what happened— He remembers the festival, his speech, a chilling dread down his spine,  _ You know what happens to traitors.  _ He remembers a flash of pink hair, a passionless, monotone voice,  _ as colorful and painless as possible.  _ He remembers pain. Tommy’s anguished cry. 

His communicator pings with a message, and Tubbo pulls it out with shaking hands.  _ Meet in the tunnels—  _ It’s from Tommy. It’s then that Tubbo realizes he wasn’t running with a direction in mind, just with the frantic pounding of his battered heart and the pull in his chest to his best friend. 

Tubbo runs faster. Nonexistent fireworks burn away his flesh with every step. 

Finally, he sees Tommy.

Even from the significant distance, the relief on his face is palpable. His entire posture changes, too, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. Tubbo runs faster.

The instant they’re close enough, they’re colliding.

Tubbo barely minds that his chest is burning with how tight Tommy is hugging him, that Tommy’s hands are scrabbling on his back for purchase like he’s inches from falling off a ledge, that his face is shoved into Tommy’s neck. He feels something in his heart settle. He’s in the arms of his best friend; that’s enough. 

_ That’s enough, _ Tubbo tries to tell his pounding heart.  _ I’m safe. Tommy’s here, I’m safe.  _

_ Tommy was there before,  _ his heart whispers,  _ and look what happened.  _

Tubbo buries his head deeper into Tommy’s collarbone. He doesn’t want to think like that. 

After what must be hours, Tubbo finally pries himself out of Tommy’s grasp. He instantly misses it. Tommy holds him at arm’s length, never once letting go, and scans his face. Tubbo watches his expression drop. 

The scars. Tubbo knew there would be some, and they’d be bad, by the tightness of the skin on his face. He knows what Tommy is thinking right now. He knows  _ Tommy,  _ can see the self-hatred sparking in his eyes right now, and knows how he’s going to deflect it. 

Tommy is going to fight Technoblade: this, Tubbo knows for sure. It was a given the moment Techno fired the first shot. ( _ As colorful and painless as possible. Painless,  _ he’d said. Tubbo  _ politely  _ disagrees.) Whether Tommy will let himself be beaten to death or not is also a given: for Tubbo, he will. Tubbo rarely knows what to do or how to feel about having that kind of power, of having a friend who would die for you a million times over. He supposes he would do the same.  _ Has  _ done the same, now. 

Tommy will fight Technoblade, and Tommy will lose, because Tommy is blinded not only by anger but by a guilt so powerful it would paralyze him if he stopped for a second to let it— so he doesn’t. 

Tubbo is about to watch his best friend be beaten to death. Tommy has just watched his best friend be shot to death. Tubbo figures they’re even. 

Maybe he’s selfish, for wanting to prolong the inevitable, but Tubbo doesn’t care. He is going to keep Tommy in his arms as long as he can, because if Tommy is there then he isn’t fighting, isn’t dying. Tubbo is going to whisper reassurances in his ear, ultimately useless, and after Tommy respawns— a little more broken— Tubbo will haul him into bed and hold him close until Tommy can hear the beat of his fragile heart,  _ I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.  _ Not okay. Not safe. Just here.

“It’s not your fault,” says Tubbo, before Tommy can open his mouth. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

Tommy looks like the apologies are lodged in his throat and he’s choking on them. Tubbo catches the faintest glimpse of tears gathering at the corners of Tommy’s eyes before his face is once again shoved into Tommy’s bony chest, clutched tight. Tubbo takes a few steadying breaths.

“I’m gonna fucking kill Technoblade,” Tommy hisses, and Tubbo doesn’t miss the way Tommy’s voice breaks over the name of his older brother, no longer  _ Techno.  _ Tommy starts to move away and Tubbo clutches at his waist desperately, hands skidding over prominent ribs. 

“Tommy, don’t,” Tubbo says, despair straining his words. Tommy starts to protest— “Seriously, don’t, please.”

Tommy’s face crumples. “He— he  _ hurt _ you, Tubbo.” 

This is what drives Tommy and this is what will kill him. Tubbo would feel grateful, honored, if it wasn’t so horrifying.

All he can do for now is thread a hand through Tommy’s hair and bring his head back down to cradle on his shoulder. “Okay.” Tubbo swallows. “Okay, then, just— just breathe with me for a second. Before you go.”

Tommy takes a wet, shuddering breath and complies. Tubbo savors the safety he feels in his best friend’s embrace, before it’s torn away from him soon. 

_ I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. _

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment of what you liked (or what you didn't) and thanks so much for reading! i would have been way funnier in these notes if i wasn't so tired, that one's on me.


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